


How It All Began

by Erikthonius



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-08 23:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17395472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erikthonius/pseuds/Erikthonius
Summary: My take on the infirmary stay





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been rattling around in my brain for a while.

PROLOGUE

The two boys sat on the canoe dock, enjoying each others’ company. “Funny,” Nico thought. It was only about a year ago that he’d never imagined really enjoying anyone’s company. Now he and Mitchell had become friends, actually rather close ones. That was even funnier, as it was not that long ago that Mitchell had attempted to make a pass at him. That hadn’t gone well. No, actually it did, in the long run. Mitchell had ended up quite happily with Connor after the whole “steal Nico away from Will” plot had blown up, and all of the boys had ended up laughing about it. Even more, Nico found that Mitchell was a good person to confide in. He discovered that for all the adventures (and terrors) he’d been through with some of the more prominent demigods, there was just something special about having a good gay friend, someone who really got what he’d been through in terms of his personal life. He could talk to Mitchell about a lot of things about his relationship with Will that he couldn’t even tell his sister Hazel or his “adopted” sister Reyna.

Today, however, Mitchell was, true to his Aphrodite heritage, in the mood for gossip. “Come on, spill it gurrlfriend.” (Only Mitchell could get away with calling him that, and only in private.) “We all saw that kiss at the campfire, but I know for a fact that it wasn’t your first. A certain Apollo birdie told me that you had your first kiss before that, when you were stuck in the infirmary, and it must’ve been one amazing kiss to crack that famous di Angelo thirty foot stone wall.”

“Actually, it was the second kiss that did it.” was the other boy’s response. “Let’s leave it at that for now, it wasn’t exactly the best time in my life, even though it ended well.”

Mitchell knew that tone. There were times when his friend was done talking. Will would be finished with his shift at the infirmary soon, so he wasn’t too worried about leaving the other boy alone. The two of them walked back to the cabins in silence, broken only at the door to Nico’s cabin, when he asked Nico, “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” was the other’s reply. “I just want a little time alone. I’ll see you at dinner.” He smiled at his friend, not his creepy “son of Hades” smile, but something a little warmer. “Let me get my thoughts in order, and I’ll tell you all about it later.” 

Mitchell looked satisfied at that and walked away without another word. Nico thought to himself, that was why they could be friends. The Aphrodite boy knew when to be silly and gossipy and when to let him just be himself. He lay down on his bed and thought back to his first day in the infirmary.

=============  
CHAPTER ONE

He’d shown up as he’d promised, not really sure what he was doing. He was a mix of feelings. He’d decided to stay at Camp Half Blood, not sure, no, not willing to admit to himself why he’d made that decision. He felt strangely hopeful, maybe, this time he’d really be welcomed here. “Don’t think about last time,” he told himself. After the Battle of Manhattan, he’d been welcomed at first, but as time went on, he noticed that people didn’t seem to want to talk to him, that he was back to being that creepy Hades kid.

“Will says he’s your friend,” he told himself. “He’s kind of annoying, but...but…, no, just leave it at that. Don’t think about that jolt of electricity you felt when he took your hand. Don’t think about his pretty blue eyes. Don’t make the same mistake that you made with Percy. Oh gods! Percy! He’d told Percy about that gods’ damned crush. Percy had taken it all right, more or less. Oh, gods! The look on Percy’s face! And then Annabeth had high fived him! “No, stop freaking out!” he told himself firmly.

He thought about turning around and slinking back to the Hades cabin, but then remembered how he’d sworn on the Styx to do this, and that was one oath that no-one dared to break, especially children of the underworld. “Gods!” he thought for what seemed like the hundredth time. Why did he feel so dizzy? It must be the adrenaline rush after owning up to Percy. He strode into the infirmary, but when he caught sight of the head counsellor of the Apollo cabin, he sank unsteadily onto a bench.

“Nico, how nice of you to join us,” Will called out in his usual cheery manner. “Kayla, why don’t you show our new guest to a bed; he looks like he could use a bit of rest.”

A girl with green-fringed hair came toward him, flipping through a clipboard. Apparently, the dyslexia so common to demi-gods wasn’t as extreme among the Apollo cabin. “Hmm,” she muttered. “Recommended quiet and bed rest. Well, I guess you’ll be in one of the semi-private rooms. Just as well, we have a few patients a little too close to…”

She was cut off as Will shot her a withering look, but Nico flinched nevertheless. The stigma of being a child of Hades and its association with death would be particularly strong among the injured. Maybe staying was a mistake. But was the mistake staying in the infirmary or in the camp? His reverie was interrupted as Will came over to him, steering him onto one of the two cots in the room. He jerked back as the blond grabbed his hand.

“No, just let me take your hand for a minute; I need to do an assessment.” Damn, the medic had a grip like a vise. “Gods, Nico, you’re a wreck. You’re undernourished, those claw marks on your arms are infected, and your adrenaline is spiking. What’s wrong? Did something startle you?”

“No, I’m just not used to being touched.” he said, not wanting to go into the fact that even now, touching Will’s hands made it feel like electricity was racing up and down his spine. “How do you know that? And why do you keep grabbing my hand?”

The other smiled, and said, “I can diagnose your physical condition by touch. It’s an Apollo thing, kind of like how Percy can always sense plumbing. That must come in handy when you’re on a quest and need a bathroom.”

That jibe made Nico grin. He didn’t notice Will look away at that, as he was feeling a certain satisfaction that he no longer had an urge to defend his former crush.

Will continued with his examination, paying particular attention to the still healing gouges on the other boy’s arms. “I’d really like to clean those up first off. I think your overall healing will go better if you don’t have to fight off all that infection. And those stitches, I’m guessing Praetor Reyna did those. It has the look of field work, first rate field work, but you’ll heal faster and with less scarring if I redo them. Here, take some ambrosia to dull the pain, and I’ll get to work on that.”

He reached over to the cart behind him to grab some of the godly food, but Nico flinched back.

“That stuff doesn’t really work so well on me, and I really don’t like the taste. Unicorn draught seems to be more effective.”

“How can you not like the taste? It always tastes like everyone’s best childhood memories.”

Nico lowered his eyes. In a quiet voice, he said, “I don’t have that many childhood memories. When Alecto put us in the Lotus Hotel, she made us drink Lethe water. Now ambrosia just tastes flat and a little bitter to me.”

“Well,” Will responded, quickly turning away, “I guess I’ll go get some unicorn draught, then. Be back as soon as I can find it.” He hurried off, and Nico wondered if he’d sounded a little colder. As he sat, waiting for the son of Apollo to return, he thought, “Great, now he really thinks I’m a freak,” and laid back on his bed grumpily.

That grumpiness probably explained why he didn’t hear how angrily the head medic slammed the door of the supply room, ostensibly to look for unicorn draught (which was in plain sight and clearly labeled), but really to wrap his arms around himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Gods!” he whispered. “How could you put this poor kid through so much?” He splashed some water onto his face and resumed his “professional friendly healer face.” Then he gathered the draught and the supplies and equipment he’d need to clean and redo the other’s sutures as well as some of the herbal paste that the satyrs were so fond of.

Nico was jolted out of his reverie of grump by the return of the healer, who was pushing a cart loaded with supplies and singing some altogether too cheerful a song about defying gravity (although Nico had to admit, he rather liked the sound of the other’s voice.) 

“I’m afraid this is going to involve a little more physical contact, since I can’t just sing sutures in and out,” said the blond healer, with a wink.

“Just keep it professional,” was the stiff reply.

“Professional is my middle name. No, strike that; it’s actually Alexander.” he said, taking hold of the smaller boy’s arm. His hand was warm and his grip was firm, but in his ‘professional’ mode, he didn’t seem to send quite so many jolts of electricity down Nico’s spine. Still, the touch was not unpleasant, at least at first. 

As his old sutures were being pulled out, Nico grimaced at the pain. The healer, seeing his discomfort, began to sing again, this time in ancient Greek. Of course, the other’s demi-god brain translated automatically:

“Hear me, you who posses deep-wooded Helicon,  
fair-armed daughters of Zeus the magnificent!  
Fly to beguile with your accents your brother, golden-tressed Phoebus who, on the twin peak of this rock of Parnassus, escorted by illustrious maidens of Delphi,  
sets out for the limpid streams of Castalia, traversing,  
on the Delphic promontory, the prophetic pinnacle.”

The sound of the other’s voice soothed him, lulling him into a half-doze, only to be broken by a familiar smell. 

“Done with tailoring, now on to the clean-up.” Will was painting his now restitched arms with that stinking glop that Coach Hedge had used on him after his struggles with the Athena Parthenos had left him depleted and fading. “I know it’s not your favorite cologne (actually the stench of it brought the memory of the satyr’s gruff affection back in a not-unpleasant way), but not to worry. This gauze is specially woven by the Athena cabin to keep both the smell and the healing powers in, so your arms will receive the maximum benefit, and your (he paused, why did he pause?) nose will receive the minimum affront.”

(As he turned to the cart to get the gauze, the son of Apollo thought to himself, “Keep a grip on yourself Solace, you almost said “adorable nose” out loud.)

After he’d finished wrapping Nico’s arms in gauze (“Sorry, they don’t make it in black,” he’d quipped), the blond pulled two covered plates from the bottom of the cart and placed them on the table.

“And now, something even better than ambrosia.” He pulled the covers off with a flourish. “Grilled cheese! One for you, and one for me; I’ve missed lunch too.”

At first the son of Hades pulled back; he was not much of an eater, but the sandwiches did smell good. The blond fixed him with his gaze.

“Come on, death boy, you need to eat.”

“Don’t call me that, especially with your mouth full,” he smirked, but he did break off a small piece and put it in his mouth. It did taste good. Will began to chat with him. At first he asked a few questions, nothing too prying, just showing interest in the other boy, but when Nico declined to answer in anything more than a few monosyllables, he switched to just giving out Camp gossip. It was a series of amusing stories about the latest pranks of the Hermes cabin (apparently, Cecil had a real talent for sabotage, frequently to his own disadvantage), Drew’s latest atrocious remarks, and some tales of a rivalry between the Ares and Athena cabins. By the time he’d finished that, Nico realized that he’d been so entertained that he’d finished off his entire sandwich, quite a feat, as his appetite had been so bad since before the quest to bring the Athena Parthenos halfway across the planet. He also appreciated that none of the gossip had been about romance, a topic that he still was rather shy about, all things considered. He began to think that maybe spending time with this healer might not be so annoying.

Nico found himself yawning. He started to apologize, but the other boy put in, “No, some sleep will do you good.”

“Will, we have incoming!” a voice rang out from the hallway.

“Gotta go. I’ll look in on you later. Nap time for you now, death boy.” As he said that, the blond gently laid his hand on Nico’s unbandaged left shoulder, a parting gesture. The touch was brief but startlingly warm. As he lay back on the bed, too drowsy to retort at the annoying nickname, Nico unconsciously put his right hand over the spot where the other boy had touched him, as if to hold the warmth in a little longer. A dreamless sleep came surprisingly quickly.

The ‘incoming’ was a pair of Ares campers. They’d barely recovered from the injuries of the recent war, but were back to bashing each other in their insane daily training sessions. They both looked fairly battered, one with what was obviously a broken arm. The other didn’t seem to have any broken bones, but had a lot of bruises and cuts, including one long and fairly deep sword gash on his leg. Routine stuff.

Cam, the one with leg gash, started explaining that they’d been fooling around with some of the weapons they’d captured from the mercenaries that Octavian had brought in for the siege of the camp. He gave some excuse about how the unfamiliarity of the weapons resulted in the injuries, since Ares campers usually weren’t this clumsy. That got eye rolls from every healer in the ward.

Will went over to broken-arm boy, Clive, that was his name. He put his hands on the Ares boy’s arm, said softly, “Okay, a little pinch here,” and sharply pulled the broken bone back into proper alignment. Ignoring Clive’s agonized shriek, he began to hum, his hands glowing slightly.

“Okay, that should be fine in day or two. I’ll tell Clarisse and Sherman that you’re not to train before Wednesday,” the blond healer said. Anticipating the next remark, he cut his patient off with “No you can’t just train with your other arm.”

Marisol, the other healer on duty, had been treating Cam’s many cuts and contusions. “Will,” she said, applying antiseptic to the gash on the boy’s leg, “come look at this. I don’t like it.”

Cam muttered something about it being just a little nick, but Will said, “How did you get this?”

Clive volunteered, “We got this sword off a dracaena. Never saw one with that design before.”

“Great, just great. You don’t know where something like that has been,” the head healer said exasperatedly. “You are staying the night in the infirmary for observation. Marisol, put a butterfly bandage on it; the last thing we need to do is heal that and trap a potential infection inside.”

By the time this was all settled and the infirmary was cleaned up, it was dinner time. Will poked his head into Nico’s room and saw the other boy still sleeping peacefully. “Good,” he thought. “He needs some quiet sleep.” He headed to the dining pavilion, planning to bring some food back for the sleeping boy.

No sooner had he sat down at table Seven than he heard someone approaching. 

“How’s Nico doing?” It was the voice of Percy Jackson. He seemed a little less laid back than usual. Of course, Annabeth would be right behind him.

Will turned to look at them. Percy’s usual grin was replaced by a shyer look, and Annabeth had a bit of a smirk. Will wondered what the Italian had said to them earlier that day before coming into the infirmary. He also noticed that Jason and Piper were also headed toward him and that several others were looking over. His first instinct was annoyance (well, maybe a certain tiny resentment for the son of Poseidon), but he put on his best professional friendly smile and said, “Nico is doing well, but he needs a lot of rest. I’ll be keeping an eye on him tonight, and I’ll let everyone know if he’s up for visitors. Tomorrow might be too soon; he needs his rest”

The collective relief of the onlookers was palpable, even to those without the empathic gift that was Will’s inheritance from his godly father. It made him wish that the boy in the infirmary could see just how many people here really cared for him.

“Thanks, man.” Jason had taken his hand and was clasping it firmly. “We feel better knowing you’ll take good care of him.”

Will blushed slightly, grateful that his tan probably hid it.

When the nymphs brought his dinner, the son of Apollo brought his plate to the brazier to push the usual sacrificial portion into the flame. “For Apollo,” he murmured. Then, looking down on his plate, he saw that there was a piece of pecan pie, his favorite. He drew in a breath and then pushed the entire dessert into the fire, hoping no-one saw the blush on his cheeks as he whispered imploringly, “For Lord Hades, please help me save him.”

After he’d finished his meal, the blond returned to the infirmary, ostensibly to do rounds, but somehow, he kept coming back to the ward at the back where one patient slept. “Still sleeping, that’s a good sign,” he thought. It seemed that the son of Hades was more relaxed than he’d seen it in years. The brow was uncreased at last, the shoulders unhunched, the mouth so pretty when it wasn’t in that semi-permanent scowl, “Gods, Solace, stop staring at his mouth, his mouth that you’ve wanted to kiss for years now.” He collected himself and hummed a healing hymn, drawing some more of the sleeping boy’s pain out, feeling the weight of it as he drew it onto himself to ease the other’s burden, as he had every time he’d walked past the bed where the son of Hades lay.

“I’m heading back to the cabin. Austin, you have the infirmary for the night,” he called to his half-brother as he exited.

“Not to worry, these sleeping beauties are safe with me,” the other son of Apollo called back. After his brother had left, Austin took out his guitar and began to play softly, lulling the patients into a restful sleep. A calm descended on the infirmary.

That calm was broken abruptly. Nico sat bolt upright. He looked at the son of Apollo, seeing his cornrowed head bent over his desk, where he lightly dozing. There was something wrong. He could sense the fading of someone’s life force, as if Thanatos were near. Nico tried to focus, but he was still befuddled by his long sleep. “Aiuto! Chiama il dottore!” he called out in alarm, English not forthcoming in his confusion.

Austin jerked upright, not quite comprehending the words at first, but catching the urgency in the other boy’s tone and gestures. He pressed the button at his desk, knowing that it would send the alert to his cabin, thanks to the system that the Hephaestus cabin had rigged up for emergencies like this. As he waited for Will to come, he saw Nico rise from the bed, coming into the room where the two Ares campers lay, still repeating the phrase. He seemed to be chanting it like an incantation, his eyes still unfocused and his voice still hoarse and muddy. Suddenly, his gaze came into full focus on the two recently injured campers. He stared at the one with the gash on his leg and his eyes grew wider.

The Ares boy, what was his name? Cam, that was it. He didn’t seem to be awake, but he was sweating profusely, and he’d started shivering. The other, Clive, was awakened by the motion around him and sat up. He looked around and saw the son of Hades staring at Cam. Clive called out in fear. “What’s he doing to my brother? Make him stop! Get him away from here!”

Will burst into the infirmary at that moment. He took the situation in at a glance. He looked first at Nico. “Austin, get him back into bed, and see to it that he’s not disturbed.” Then he pulled the covers off the shivering Cam. The wound on his leg had become swollen and turned an angry red. “Then,” the healer continued to his brother, “get back here with ambrosia. I’ll need your help on the healing chants.”

As he was taken back to his room, Nico looked over his shoulder and saw something surprising. The normally smiling face of the senior Apollo counsellor was wearing an expression he’d never seen before, could it be anger? He didn’t realize Solace was capable of it. Austin gestured for him to follow, not touching the son of Hades (apparently, he’d been warned, thank the gods), and as they left, they heard a sharply hissed, “You are NOT HELPING! Be quiet and let me save your brother’s life.”

When he lay back on his bed, the younger Apollo camper handed him a glass with some milky liquid in it. “Drink this, it will help you get back to sleep,” he was told. He put the glass to his lips and sipped a bit as Austin walked away, closing the door behind him, and when he knew he was alone, spat the mouthful back into the glass, and then, having no other way to dispose of it, poured it into a shadow, leaving no trace of the sleeping draught.

Austin came back into the other wound to find his brother treating the infected wound on the Ares boy’s leg. The wound had turned a horrible shade of green and was causing the boy to spasm in pain. Will’s hands were glowing as he held them over the infection, and he was singing one of the oldest Delphic hymns to their father. Austin knew what was needed. He didn’t have the healing power of his older brother, but his musical gifts were the strongest of all of Apollo’s demigod children. He stepped close to his brother and added his own more powerful voice. At first they sang in unison, but then Austin began weaving in harmonies, enhancing the power of the chant.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the skin around the wounded area returned to a more normal color, and the wounded boy seemed to fall into a more natural doze. Will looked at his brother and said hoarsely, “Why don’t you head back to the cabin and get some sleep? I think our patient is out of danger, thanks to you.”

His brother replied, equally hoarsely, “Will, stop selling yourself short. You did most of the work. Look at you, you can barely stand. You’re the healer here. I’m just your backup band.”

Will smiled at his brother, that same smile that had disarmed so many arguments. “Bro, I couldn’t have done it without you. Go back to the cabin, and get some rest. Don’t make me pull senior counselor rank on you. I’ll spend the night here; I’m too beat to walk back. And don’t forget to take the infirmary pass,” he added, slipping a cloth band with their father’s sigil embroidered on it onto the younger boy’s arm. “The last thing we need is for this kid to try to thank you in the morning for saving his life and then find out that the harpies ate you on the way to bed.”

Austin gave up protesting. He knew how stubborn his brother could be, so he settled with making sure Will was settled into a comfy chair in the infirmary office before heading out into the night.

“Gods, I’m so tired,” the senior healer muttered. The weapons those idiots from the Ares cabin had been fooling around with had probably had some kind of poison on them, and it had almost cost them dearly. What would he have done if it had been someone less musically talented than Austin? His own skills weren’t nearly enough. Were they ever? And what was he doing with Nico? He was playing with the life of the most powerful demigod around, and his own judgement was so clouded. What right did he have? People thought he was a healer, but how many people had he fooled by flashing that “son of Apollo” smile at them? Sometimes he thought that was the only skill he’d inherited. He couldn’t sing, he couldn’t write poetry, he couldn’t shoot well. He started to think about all the people he’d failed to cure, failed to save, gods damn it, why did Lee’s and Michael’s faces keep drifting into his mind when he got into these moods? He’d come so close to losing another camper. Will thought about how calm Nico had been when he led the funerary rites for all of those lost in the recent battle. The son of Hades had even kept his calm while speaking about the heroic death of Leo Valdez, who’d he’d come to know so well. Will felt even more inadequate at that thought. He put his head down on the desk and started to weep quietly.

In the other room, Nico got out of bed. With the door closed, he couldn’t hear what was happening, but he could feel the sense of impending death abating. He figured that the healing had succeeded, but he wanted to be sure, so he crept to the door of his room and eased it open. The infirmary seemed quiet, so he snuck out of his room. Although the infirmary was dark, he could see well enough. That skill was common to all children of the underworld.

He looked in on the room where the two Ares boys were. Apparently, they were doing fine now and both of them had fallen asleep. Just as well. He really didn’t appreciate the hostility that radiated off them, especially when it was directed at him. He thought he heard a faint sound coming from down the hallway, a sound that bothered him somehow. He walked silently toward the disturbing sound to investigate.

He came to what was obviously the office. He peeked in and saw Will at the desk with his head down on it, and Will was quietly sobbing. Nico pulled back into the hallway and returned to his own room. He thought about the last time he’d cried. It was a long time ago. When he’d realized that he’d truly never see his sister again, he’d cried hot bitter tears. The sobs had wracked his body. Nico di Angelo thought he was done with tears that day. They’d not brought back his beloved sister Bianca; they’d not given him any comfort. He had no use for his own tears, but the sound, the sight of Will Solace crying made his heart hurt. He crept back into his bed.

At sunrise the next morning, Will woke up feeling stiff and sore. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again (and he’d had another crying jag, curse it). Before he could lift his head off the desk, he felt a familiar presence in front of him.

“Cecil,” he muttered, “give me a chance to clean up and dress, will you?”

“No, not Cecil, but I’m glad you can see the family resemblance.”

Will stood up abruptly. In front of him stood a young man with salt and pepper hair and a runner’s build. (Also that same smirk and upraised eyebrows of his best friend Cecil, that made you check to make sure your wallet was still in your own pocket.)

“Lord Hermes.” he said, bowing his head respectfully.

“Will Solace, son of my brother Apollo, you must come with me immediately.”

The teenager tried to protest, begging at least a few minutes to clean up and put on fresh clothes, but the god put up a hand in dismissal and then pulled what looked like a cell phone from his pocket. “George, Martha, see to my nephew’s morning ablutions.”

Two antennae emerged from the phone and then morphed into snakes. The first of them said, “To begin valet service, please deposit one rat,” but the other said, “Pay no mind to George, he’s such a moocher.”

With that, both of the snakes opened their jaws wide. At first, Will was afraid that they were going to swallow him like, well, like a rat, but instead a fine spray emerged from their mouths. In no time the spray thickened into a thick mist which felt rather bracing, really. In short order, the mist cleared as if blown away by a strong wind.

Will around in amazement. He was in some huge temple or throne room. At the center were twelve thrones. Ten of them were occupied. Hermes walked to what was obviously his own seat. “Gods!” Will thought. They were on Olympus. It was fairly obvious which god was which, both from the aspects of their thrones and the family resemblance he’d seen in so many of their children. Conspicuously absent was his own father. This could not be good.

“Will Solace, you have been summoned before us to speak on your father’s behalf.” That must be Athena, he recognized the piercing grey eyes and the glare identical to so many looks he’d gotten from Annabeth Chase.

As he approached the thrones, he looked down at himself. “Thanks, George and Martha,” he thought. Instead of last night’s soiled scrubs, he was wearing a clean chiton. His face felt freshly scrubbed, and he suspected that his hair was more neatly combed than it had been in weeks. He knelt respectfully, waiting to hear what was expected of him.

“My miscreant brother (that would be his aunt Artemis speaking now) has been charged with seeking to raise himself up at the expense of all reality, encouraging others (she pointedly did NOT look at Hera’s throne) to violate the barrier between Greek and Roman demigods, and falling prey to the base flattery of his own descendant, the augur Octavian. As his eldest son and senior counselor at Camp Half Blood, what do you have to say that might mitigate the punishments to be levied on him?”

Although her words were alarming, her tone seemed encouraging, and Will was certain she smiling slightly at him (as much as Artemis would ever smile at a male, even one like him who would be the last to ever offer unwanted advances to any female).

He opened his mouth to respond, hoping that after last night’s marathon of healing chants he could do more than croak, but his voice seemed fully restored, thanks again, Martha and George. (He’d have to get the formula to that, it could prove useful in the infirmary.) His usual insecurities about his lack of his father’s gifts for eloquence seemed to keep themselves in check as he talked of his father’s attempts to do good in the world, how Apollo had no designs on seizing divine power. He decided not to try to convince anyone that Apollo would not engage in self-aggrandizement. (When your father is, among other things, the god of truth, you tend to have trouble telling whoppers like that one.) He tried to put as much of the blame as he could on Octavian rather than Apollo.

After what seemed like hours, he staggered back, almost collapsing. He hoped he’d done some good, but looking at the assembled deities’ stern faces, he feared the worst. He was startled when he heard a voice from behind him. He turned to see a god who looked almost familiar, the same thick black hair, the same tilt to the chin that he’d spent so much time admiring.

“My brother is very stubborn, and I doubt that you could help your father at this point. I think there is someone who needs your care much more.”

Will felt a moment of panic as the lord of the underworld pulled him into a shadow.

That day in Camp Half Blood…

No-one had seen Will Solace. They were not too concerned about it. The other members of the Apollo cabin said they assumed he was in the infirmary as usual. They weren’t any more forthcoming about that, since they all knew that the door to Nico’s room was closed with a “do not disturb” sign on it. They were not about to spread gossip about their head counsellor and everyone’s favorite older brother. (Actually, they were quite willing to gossip among themselves, but there’s a difference between in-family gossiping and public gossiping.) Of course no-one except Austin knew what had happened last night, and he was sound asleep, since he’d been up all night. His siblings didn’t know that he’d been working; they just assumed that in spite of being a son of Apollo, he was a musician, and musicians’ hours trumped child-of-Apollo hours when it comes to what time you get up in the morning.

In the dining pavilion, there was a brief discussion going on among certain children of the elder gods and their closest friends about the status of their hospitalized friend, the gist of which was whether he was up for a visit today. Piper and Percy were all for going in to see him immediately, but Jason counselled patience, and Annabeth seconded that, citing the overall medical knowledge of the Apollo cabin and reinforcing that by reminding them of Will Solace’s skill in particular.

Piper’s face changed abruptly at the mention of that name, She got a small smile on her face and said, “Well, if Will says his patient needs privacy, I’m willing to wait.” Percy could see that he was plainly outvoted and sat back down, although he looked none too pleased.

Outside of the infirmary, life at camp was going on as it usually did. Inside the infirmary, more specifically in Nico’s room, it was not as cheery. Whether it was invoking shadows to get rid of the sleeping draught, sensing the closeness to death, or just an accumulation of all that he’d been through, Nico was assailed by the whispering of shadows. It was an insidious thing; it started small. “You’re alone again,” they whispered. “You’re always alone in the end. They won’t come, they don’t care. But we’re always here with you. We’ll never leave you. You belong with us.” Then they would get more specific, more personal. “Everyone is afraid of you. No-one wants you. You don’t belong here; you belong with us. They don’t want you. You only hurt them. You only make them cry.” Thinking about what he’d seen last night, that last one stung especially.

He tried to ignore them, but as the day dragged on and he was alone, it got harder and harder to resist them, and Nico was so tired of fighting. He didn’t realize that he’d missed breakfast; he just wanted the voices to leave him alone. No, alone wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted his family, he wanted his friends. But his family? His mother was gone, his sister was dead. His half-sister was thousands of miles away with a life of her own. His friends? Where were they? Percy and Annabeth? Would they even be his friends after what he’d said to them? Jason? Could Jason even stand to look at him after what Cupid had made him do? Reyna? Coach Hedge? They’d seen what he’d done to the Lawrence boy. Will? If Will had figured out how Nico really felt about him? He was so tired. The shadows were all around him. The shadows were so easy, so familiar.

It was mid-afternoon when Austin was finally awake enough to figure out that nobody knew where Will was. When he asked, finally it was Marisol who made some remarks about their brother putting the “do not disturb” sign on Nico’s door and closing himself in with the son of Hades.

Austin hastily told them that he was the one who’d put the sign on the door and told them what had happened the night before. They took off for the infirmary at a run. 

When they got there, an angry Clive greeted them. “When can we get out of here? And is that creepy di Angelo still here? I heard him trying to put some kind of hex on Cam. What was that demonic chant he was calling out?”

Austin had enough. He poked at the Ares camper’s recently broken arm. (Will, having the empathic healing gift, couldn’t get away with stunts like that, so Austin felt it was his duty to act on his brother’s behalf.)

“You moron. That “demonic chant” was di Angelo calling for a doctor to come and save your moronic brother’s life. In Italian. Which is his native language. Which some of us who are not morons can actually understand when we’re calm. Which is why we got here in time to actually save his moronic life. Which is why maybe you two morons should check yourselves out of the infirmary and try to stay out of it so we can save lives of people who aren’t morons.”

Clive was muttering “Sorry, sorry,” and backing out of the room, possibly in embarrassment, but more likely because Austin was thumping his still sore arm with each repetition of the word “moron.”

Having vented to his satisfaction, Austin went in to Nico’s room to check on the boy. He knocked on the door, and, hearing no answer, slowly opened the door. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Di Angelo was lying on the bed, barely moving and looking so pale. The sheet had fallen off of him, revealing his form, clothed in a hospital gown. The worst of it was his hands and feet. The bedding was faintly visible through his hands and feet. He was fading. They had to find Will fast. Will could fix this. But where was he?

Austin raised the alarm, and the entire Apollo cabin was searching frantically for their brother. It was Kayla who found him.

Will stepped out of the shadows into his own office almost exactly where he’d been when Hermes had taken him. The combination of exhaustion, adrenaline, and being pulled through the shadows from Mount Olympus to his own office made him feel faint. He was on the verge of passing out when Kayla burst into the office.

“Will!” she shouted. “Where have you been? Nico is fading. We’ve tried everything. Nothing helps. He’s...almost gone.”

In a flash, all dizziness and exhaustion left the teen. He ran out of the office, knocking Kayla over in the process. As he ran down the hall, he began to shout, “Nico, no, Nico! Oh gods, no!” 

Nico had been drifting in and out of dreams, but not the lucid dreams of demigods or the terrifying dreams that Tartarus had engendered. This was more a languid shapeless dream. He could feel that all his struggles, all his burdens were evaporating, and that a pleasant coolness had settled into his extremities and was creeping upward. Suddenly, he could hear a voice calling his name. The voice was somehow upset, but he liked that voice, he wanted to stay just long enough to hear it a little while longer. The cool numbness faded as he felt something warm and comforting wrap around him. His arms reached up in response. Then there were warm drops falling on his face, they couldn’t be tears? Finally something soft and warm brushed his cheek. He fell into a dreamless healing sleep at last.

Will had burst into the room and taken in the sight of the pale and fading boy on the bed lying there in a daze. He threw his arms around the smaller boy’s body, willing every scintilla of his healing powers into the other’s frame. He only relaxed as he felt the other’s arms wrap around him, feeling solid at last. A few tears dropped from his eyes. Before he knew what he’d done, Will leaned over and gently kissed Nico on the cheek, a brief, chaste kiss, but still a kiss. His face burned with shame at that, and he slipped out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

When Nico awoke, he was alone. This was good, he thought. He was used to being alone. He needed some time to think. He looked down at his arms and legs; they seemed solid. Whatever they’d done last night had worked. Then he thought more about what had happened, and his heart fell. It was bad enough when he’d been perving on Percy, but now what he’d done. Well, he wasn’t sure what he’d done, but the healer had just been doing some Apollo thing to save his life and he’d…

His thoughts were interrupted. “Good, you’re awake.” It was a girl’s voice, Kayla was it?

“Where’s Will? I mean where’s Solace?”

“Oh, he’s probably at the archery range. Gods know he needs the practice,” she added with a smirk. “I’ll go get him,” she added.

“No, you don’t have to,” he said, uncertainty in his voice.

“He told me he wanted to know as soon as you were awake.” As she turned to leave, she paused. “Listen, Di Angelo, when you were first admitted, I might have said something. Look, I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” he muttered as she stepped out.

Left alone, Nico thought, “Oh gods, I can’t go through this again. I should just leave. Just give me a minute.” He was still a feeling a little woozy. He tried to stand up, but his legs trembled.

“What are you doing out of bed?!” Will’s voice thundered.

“Sorry, sorry,” Nico muttered. He sat back onto the bed. Unconsciously, his hand went to his cheek, right where Will had kissed him the night before.

Will colored. “Oh, gods! He knows what I did!” he thought. Out loud, he said, “Look, I’m sorry for yelling, but you still need rest, especially after last night.” Then he dropped his eyes and turned so that Nico couldn’t see him blush.

Unfortunately, Nico could see him put his face down and turn away. His heart sank at that. “I ruined it,” he thought. “I ruined it like I ruin everything. He could tell the way I grabbed at him when he was just trying to heal me.”

Finally it was Will who spoke. He turned to face Nico and slowly said, “Maybe I shouldn’t be the one to oversee your healing. I can have someone else from Apollo look after you.”

Nico’s heart sank at that. He kept his face impassive and said, “Maybe I shouldn’t be here at all. I don’t really belong…”

Will burst in, his voice rising in sudden anger. “Look, I don’t want to hear anything about ‘the son of Hades.’ Haven’t we been through that already?!”

Nico dropped his eyes. “It’s not that,” he said softly.

“Well, what is it then?” Will’s voice continued to rise. “Don’t tell me it’s about Octavian! Look, he did that to himself. I let him do it as much as you did.”

“It’s not that either,” he replied, even more softly.

Will could see the pain in the other boy’s eyes, but he was desperate. He had to try. His voice dropped as he made a stab in the dark. “Don’t tell me it’s because you’re gay.”

Nico’s eyes blazed and his voice was a cold quiet fury. “Who told you? Who told you?”

“No-one told me. I just...noticed. I saw how you looked at…” He couldn’t bear to say Percy’s name. “It’s all right. No-one else knows, I think. They wouldn’t care if they knew. It’s not like it’s 1930 anymore.”

“You don’t understand.” Nico’s voice shook. “You didn’t see. It wasn’t from the old days. I barely remember any of that. After Bianca...died, I lived on the streets for a while. I saw how they...I saw so many kids who had to run away because their families threw them out. I saw how even on the streets if anyone knew about it, what they were made to do. You say it’s better now, but is it? Is it really?” He fell back, his fury spent.

Will stepped back, trying to hold in the anguish he felt at the other boy’s pain. More than ever, he just wanted to wrap his arms around Nico, to hold him close and safe. But no, he didn’t have the right to do that. Instead, he blinked several times, willing the tears back. Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, he said, “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like out there. But here, in camp, it is safe. I’ve been here since I was ten. I had to stay here full time since I discovered that I could feel other people’s pain. I’ve been here for five years, and no one has ever given me any trouble about being gay, not once. They don’t do that here.”

Nico was about to fire back a retort, when the last bit sank in. Will was gay! Wait! Why didn’t Will want to see him anymore? He could only think of one thing. Will was gay, so he probably realized what had happened when Nico had grabbed him the night before. He’d had no right, no business grabbing at the healer just because the other boy was gay as well. Once again, Nico thought, I’m an outcast, even when I’d hoped...his dark thoughts were interrupted as he realized that Will was speaking. It was soft and low, and he wanted to hear that voice, even if it was for the last time.

“Nico, I’m so sorry. I was trying to keep it professional, but when I thought I’d lose you for good, I know I didn’t have the right to do it, but I lost control. I swear I’ll never do it again.”

This time he spoke out loud. “Never do what again?” Even as he said it, he raised his hand to touch his cheek again without thinking. 

Will was now blushing redder than his own father at sunset. “I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You kissed me? When did you kiss me?”

“It was last night, right after you stopped fading. Nico, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I thought you knew. When I saw you touch your cheek just now…It was a mistake. I never should have done it. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

Nico’s mind was reeling. Will had kissed him. But it had been a mistake! He’d never do it again! He could feel something crumbling inside himself. It was Percy all over again, but a thousand times worse! He felt like he might actually cry. So he did what he’d always done.

“Was kissing me so horrible that you never want to do it again?” he snapped, using rising anger to cover his hurt.

Unsurprisingly, that anger triggered the same response in the other boy. “No,” the blond said, rather louder than he needed to. “I just shouldn’t have kissed you without asking.”

Nico’s temper had too much momentum. “FINE!” he shouted. “THEN JUST ASK ME, SOLACE!”

“FINE!” Will shouted back. “CAN I KISS YOU, DI ANGELO?”

From down the corridor, they heard Kayla, shouting at both of them. “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THE GODS, JUST SHUT UP AND KISS EACH OTHER! THIS IS AN INFIRMARY, NOT THE APHRODITE CABIN! AND STOP MESSING WITH THE LIGHTS, DI ANGELO!”

The two boys froze, suddenly standing very close to each other. Nico could see how red Will’s face was, and felt his own burning cheeks. Before he could think to regret it, he grabbed the other boy’s head and pulled it close. As their lips met, he could feel Will’s arms wrap around him. He felt like he was melting.

After what could have been an instant or an eternity, they let go of each other. They saw Kayla peering through the open door. “Finally!” she sighed before pulling the door closed to give them some privacy.

EPILOGUE

They sat on the porch of the Big House. As Nico finished the story, Michell bounced up and down with glee.

“Oh! My! Gods! Oh! My! Mother! Di Angelo, that was sooo perfect! That should be made into a ballad and sung at the next bonfire. That should be made into a Broadway musical. Wait! Is Lin-Manuel Miranda an Apollo cabin alum? He has to be.”

“Cool your jets, gurrlfriend.” (See, Nico could do it too, but not as well as Mitchell.) 

“But you have to keep going. That was your first kiss; okay, your second kiss. Now I need to know about your first date, your first…”

Nico raised a hand, cutting the over-excited Aphrodite boy off. “Come on, Mitch. You got what you asked for. Give it a rest. Maybe some other time…”


End file.
